This is it what it will be like for the next four months, dark. Probably mostly wet, hopefully not too much ice and snow but things have been changing, winters have become unpredictable in this mild river valley.
I really want two handsome and strong torch bearers to run ahead of me when I cycle home after work through the dark forest. All afternoon I tell myself that I will take the road, never mind the detour, the tram lines, the traffic lights, the big black cars without indicators etc. but then I go out there into the dark bicycle lock-up and I feel like some sort of Arctic explorer and by the time reason hits me it's too late. I am in the dark tunnel with the dripping dark trees, the path covered in slippery leaves. And I tell myself that nobody in their right mind - and certainly no creep or criminal - would want to be here, getting wet waiting to attack a lone middle aged female cyclist. At times, I have to sing at the top of my voice just to make sure that all the ghosts and fairies get the message, too. Mostly, I just curse my stupid stubborn self.